


HBO Creepywar

by AlphaPockets



Category: Band of Brothers, Creepypasta - Fandom, Generation Kill, The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Camping, Creepypasta, Dream Attack, Ensemble Cast, Friendship, Goatman - Freeform, Have You Seen This Man?, Horror, Other, Scary Short Stories, Sleep Paralysis, Slenderman - Freeform, Violence, death of a background character, haunted dolls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:55:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaPockets/pseuds/AlphaPockets
Summary: The cast of the HBO War shows existing in the internet's horror stories and urban legends.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. The Goatman

**Author's Note:**

> Babe Heffron headed south to see his cousin. What should have been a fun camping weekend in the woods outside of town with new friends turned into an experience Babe would try to forget for the rest of his life.

It wasn’t that Babe was annoyed that he had to go to Alabama to see his cousin. Really. He liked Gene as much as any of his cousins—maybe even more.

He just had plans.

Eugene was sickly, and he had recently survived a pretty serious heart issue. Because of that, Babe’s rich aunt and uncle canceled their trip to Europe, which had bummed his cousin out pretty bad. So, he had asked if Babe could spend some time with him instead. Because Babe was also the only cousin who never treated him as “weak” just because Gene was sickly at times.

It ended up being a trip that Babe would think about for years but wouldn’t really hit home for a few more years when he would eventually become roommates with Shifty in college.

Babe arrived in mid-June. They did the normal trips—baseball games, parks and faires, the beach…etc. But it was about two weeks in that Gene felt well enough to do what he loved the most when his Northern cousins and friends were down, and that was camping. Normally, they had Bill or Jules there to go with them, but as both were playing travel little league back in Philly, it was just the two redheads and their other cousin Allen from the Vest side of the family. He was younger and skittish, though Gene was only 17 and Babe a year younger. All the same, camping in this case was not exactly the pitch a tent and piss in the woods, of course. The Sledge family had an extensive plot of land deep in the woods that they used for hunting season. There were two trailers, one of which belonged to Gene’s parents and the other to his older brother who was in the Army.

Prepping for camping was usually where the cousins and his friends picked on Babe the most, of course. He was a city kid from Philadelphia who enjoyed some parts of the wilderness but was not exactly into hunting. Luckily, this trip was mostly shopping, which was when they met some of Gene’s friends including Wayne Sisk, Vera, Stella, and Moe Alley. Sisk had one of the bigger trucks, which they loaded with the sleeping bags and groceries while Vera and Stella’s friends piled in their cars. Gene’s truck was cramped already with the three of them, but that did not stop Vest’s girlfriend, who they called Lamb because she was so quiet, from budging in as well. All together, there were eleven headed to the campground, including the five girls.

Babe was positive his aunt and uncle thought it was just the guys. He was not going to change that assumption for the life of him, especially if it meant Vest wouldn’t be spouting off on his conspiracy theories he read on the internet.

They had arrived and a few of them headed into the trees for firewood when the crunching of leaves and bushes snapping caught all their attention. Sisk had been out with Babe and Anna’s friend Alton More when they froze and noticed a man come through with his son who was more their age. While the man was a thicker build with an impressive beard, his son was thin, much like Babe and Gene but with tanned skin and wide, alert eyes. He looked about their age as well and more intensely curious than his placid father.

“What y’all doin,” the father asked slowly.

“Getting firewood, sir,” Sisk replied politely, but Babe’s eyes were focused on the shotgun casually held in his arm.

“You lot stayin round here,” he asked. His eyes looked over the trees like he was looking for someone.

“Yes sir,” Sisk continued, his soft voice seemed far better fit for this than the other two. “Here with the Sledge boy at his Pa’s spot. We didn’t get into your land, did we?”

“Naw,” the dad replied. “Sledge boy, he doin’ better then.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hmmm.” The man seemed satisfied, but the son was watching them closely.

“We shouldn’t be that loud,” More finally added. “Just camping for the weekend. Cooking on a fire. Swim in the creek.”

“Can I join em, Pa,” the boy suddenly asked. His pale eyes flicked up to his dad, who watched his son back.

“Hmmmm,” the dad hummed again then nodded a bit. “You boys just be careful. There been some weird things out in these woods. Big animal. S’why I got my gun.” The man patted his shotgun for affect but smiled at the boy. “You be good Merriell. Ol’ Sledge won’t have none of your habits with his boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boy dismissed, but there was excitement in his eyes.

When they returned fully loaded with firewood, Gene had looked at the boy they met in the woods and blinked. “Snafu,” he had asked as if it were shocking that he had joined in. The boy, Snafu it seemed, sucked air in his teeth and shot back a playful but sharp barb. After a moment, the tension dissipated with them smiling. They all worked together to set up the site. Alley and the girls had set up all the sleeping areas while Gene put away the food. Sisk and Snafu prepped the fire for the night. They dissolved into bicker fights along the way. Eventually the football came out and arguments were forgotten.

As it got later, Snafu belatedly realized he did not have anything for camping and said he was going to run home to get a bag. It was just up the path that he met Babe on in the woods, and he would be back in less than an hour. Gene and Vera decided to go with him because it was getting dark. They both remembered what Babe had said—Snafu’s dad mentioned the big animals. Snafu waved it off with a snort, saying his father was paranoid. But he was also not complaining about the extra company. They set off not long after 6:30 toward the house with flashlights just in case.

At the site, everyone else got up to normal camping things. Babe made smores, Sisk put on music, and Vest disappeared around the corner of the trailer to make out with Lamb as if the whole group didn’t know. They were all having fun, and Babe for the first time since he found out he would come down was happy about it. He had not known any of the people there, but it felt like he had known them for ages. And while Stella tried desperately to flirt with him, he was content to let her get distracted elsewhere quickly as he made sure the marshmallows did not burn.

About a half hour later, that changed. Babe thought he was imagining it at first. It was sharp and metallic, like a nosebleed. A heavy scent hung in the humid Southern air. It was sudden, too. Enough for More to stop flirting and stand up with his flashlight to check the external wiring. The coppery smell didn’t stop, but only got worse. Yet, he couldn’t find what was wrong. What started with three people turned into the whole site sniffing, groaning in disgust, and searching for the source. But outside of the Bluetooth speakers, the fridge and small swamp cooler inside, and the led, battery-controlled lights there was nothing left on. The strange electrical smell and feeling of ozone hung though, almost crackling. The debate was raised to break into Gene’s brother’s trailer when the heavy, irregular footfall of multiple people running echoed from the path the others had taken earlier.

No sooner had they stopped to look, Snafu came sprinting out of the dark, followed by a heavily breathing Gene and a terrified Vera. Rather than stop when they got to the site like most people who were racing to a location did, Snafu bolted into the dark trailer, letting the screen door slam and clatter into the siding. Vera was next inside, and Gene slowed, breathing heavy as he entered the site. Not knowing what else to do, everyone else charged inside. Babe was the last one in, helping Gene along. Inside, Vest was getting Gene’s emergency inhaler from the pack and a bottle of water. When they got in, Snafu slammed the doors shut, wide-eyed.

For a few minutes, the dark trailer was silent aside from the wheezing from Gene and Vera’s soft sobbing. The fire began to die out and, as they had yet to turn on the generator after they turned it off because of the smell, the only light was from the fast setting sun barely cutting through the trees and every time someone used their phone to check something. With the food possibly spoiling in the heat, Alley spoke up.

“Fuck it,” he muttered. “I’m going to turn back on the generator.”

He moved to the door but was spun abruptly and aggressively by Snafu.

“Fuck no,” he snapped. “No one’s fucking going outside right now.”

With that, he locked the door and slapped Vest’s hand away from the closed curtains. Babe looked around and squinted now that his eyes were adjusting. Verta was still in shock and Gene, for all his breathlessness from running, looked terrified. While he knew nothing of Snafu, there was an almost manic sound to his voice. One that made him seem like he was trying to be calm a little too hard. Babe swallowed. Silence fell over the trailer and the sounds of the forest started to echo into the area again.

“What happened,” Babe finally asked. He heard Snafu suck another breath between his teeth and figured there would be no answer. So, the extent that he went was shocking.

“We headed back to my pa’s place like we dun said,” he explained slowly. Snafu slid down the door and sat on the floor with his knees bent and legs splayed out. Only now did Babe see that his knees were scraped and bleeding. “Got there just fine and Pa said the same shit as before. Be careful, wild animals. Not sure if it was a coyote or whatever, but there was something out here. I’ve been hearing about this fucking animal since our pigs got attacked last week. Pa thinks something got loose out here from some maniac with wild pets. I think it was some dumb fucking kids thinking they all satanic and shit.”

A nervous chuckle came from the room somewhere. It spread and lightened the mood a little. Snafu stayed grave, though.

“I mean, I saw something in our yard, but it looked human. Anyway, we packed my shit and headed back. Pa asked if I wanted to take a gun with me and I said naw. We got what, dozen of us? We ain’t need a gun. No damn coyote is gonna attack this many people. He shrugged and said have it our way. We headed back here.”

Gene cut in then. It seemed he had finally caught his breath. Babe’s attention turned to his cousin, but his gaze slid over to Vera, who was now rocking and looking at the wall. Her elbows and knees were also scraped up bad. Babe chewed his lip and wondered what the hell had they all stumbled into?

“We were about halfway here,” Gene added. “It was already dark as hell, so we had the flashlights on.”

Babe realized now they did not have them any longer.

“The whole way, we kept hearing what sounded like someone walking behind us or to the side of us. Sometimes a hoot like an animal. Any time we turned the light in the direction of the sound, there was nothing. And we were sure someone was fucking with us. Maybe one of y’all or someone else. We kept going and Vera heard something closer. We all spun our lights that way and we saw sure as shit something lurking.

“So, I yelled at him. Told whoever it was they were being a dick for scaring us. Told him to leave us the fuck alone now that we know he’s fucking with us. But the guy was facing away, so we kept walking. We heard something again and realized he was on the other side of the path now and closer. Or his buddy was, maybe. But they were clearly getting closer now, and so we started walking faster.”

“Should have taking the fucking rifle,” Snafu muttered and slammed his head to the door with a thunk.

“Anyway, we started walking faster and this… god awful smell hit us. Like. Old pennies and sparklers. It was bad.” As Gene mentioned the smell, Babe realized he could smell it again, and strong. He figured it was just the memory of it and didn’t mention it. “That’s when we started hearing... something. It was vocal of some kind like whispering or chittering and heavy steps through the forest. We started to jog, and bit and it got faster. Then, Vera spun the flashlight and there was something coming at us. It moved…”

“It was twitchy,” Snafu said. “Like. Jerking side to side and coming at us like a glitching video game. And the noises were getting louder. So, we bolted. Fuckin ran flat out to the campfire because we could see it finally. Vera tripped at some point into me and we lost our lights, so we kept going. That’s when y’all saw us barreling in.”

Silence hung in the room and Babe rubbed his nose, hoping to push away the scent.

“Is it just someone fucking with us,” More asked. He sounded oddly quiet compared to what Babe had heard all day. He inhaled, probably to talk when Vest started babbling.

“It’s the goatman,” he said frantically out of nowhere. “We’re in his woods and he mad now.”

Babe would learn a few years later than the goatman was a shapeshifter or something in that region. An urban legend or maybe some old myth bastardized by colonists. But, at the time it sounded like his baby cousin spouting off the exact internet bullshit he had feared would come out in this. He ignored the way Vest was crying about how this monster was going to get us to notice that one of the girls was now freaking out like Vera had been. Finally, someone had the sense to tell Vest to shut the fuck up, which was when Babe noticed for the first time it was easy to breathe. The scent was gone. It didn’t fade out like he was used to with most scents. It was just gone.

He didn’t know what to make of that.

It was now almost ten at night and the group was huddled in the living room area of the small trailer. They had not heard anything strange in almost an hour by the time Snafu finally decides it should be okay to go outside. They did slowly, first turning back on the generator and starting the fire again. The batteries were changed in the LED lights, so they had something to carry to the cars. Alley asked if they should head back home, but they all shook their heads. Driving in the dark is bad enough without something lingering in the woods. They could hit something on the way home or get followed.

It took another half hour of quietly adjusting again before the alcohol came out. The chatter was lighter again. He watched as Snafu and Gene caught up. His cousin looked healthier, again. Less pale now, too. Vera was still shaken and sitting beside Sisk and Alley. Oddly enough, it seemed to be one of the other girls who had bought into his younger cousin’s babbling. Stella, who had been flirty earlier had clammed up almost completely and was staring blankly into the forest and shaking.

Babe sat beside Anna and More as the ghost stories started coming out. It seemed everyone had one they heard or read somewhere. And despite the scare from earlier, it felt better than not having this talk. After all, every camping experience was incomplete without ghost stories. It was Snafu’s story from where he grew up in New Orleans when the scent came back suddenly and worse than before. Lamb started gagging and peeled off to the side of the trailer to throw up. Her retching was joined by a few others. Babe, however, rose to his feet and started to look around.

He felt lightheaded and knew he was growing pale. But the forest was silent again. Completely silent. And that scent was assaulting and almost aggressive—if a scent could be aggressive. His heart pounded heavily in his chest.

“We should have fucking left,” Babe said more to himself before continuing louder. “We need to get back inside. Now.”

Fortunately, no one seemed willing to argue with him. They dumped dirt on the fire from the ground by the firepit and gathered what was important before hurrying inside. As they moved, Babe couldn’t shake how clammy and almost cold it was suddenly. It was summer in Alabama, there was no such thing as cold out, even with an AC unit running full blast on someone. Yet it was almost like an autumn chill back home had settled over them. He shivered and ducked inside with the others. More locked the doors, both the screen and the wooden door, behind them.

He could distantly hear Vest babbling again about the goatman, but he was in one of the bedrooms and Gene was hushing him over the stream of consciousness. Stella had started crying this time and was being consoled by Sisk and one of the girls. Babe looked around and could quite get over the niggling feeling that something wasn’t right. Something was off, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.

After another half hour of tense silence only interrupted by the now white noise of Stella and Vest, Snafu and More decide “fuck it” and that it was time to cook. They grabbed the multipack of sausages from the fridge that were meant for the campfire and started up the stove instead. Eventually, Babe helped out and the twelve sausages were put in a pot to cook. When they were finished, everyone came and got one of them and sat wherever there was space. It wasn’t a camping trailer like what people towed behind their cars or drove in. It was more like a trailer home with two extra rooms and a bathroom. Yet, with all the space, everyone seemed more than content to cram into the living room area unless they went to use the bathroom. Vest eventually had returned to the group with Gene and they all ate in relative silence.

One of the other guys got up and went over to the pot. Naturally, he found it empty as they had only cooked enough for everyone to get one. Still, he grumbled about how Snafu got two and everyone else got one.

“You want another, you open up and cook it. Ain’t no one else got a second. There were twelve there.”

There was a heavy, uncomfortable beat before Stella started screaming.

“Oh Jesus, Lord, it is here with us. Get it out, Lord, please!” She continued, though quieter and through sobs, and rocked herself.

Babe, Snafu, and Alley, who stood at the pot all looked at each other for a moment. Babe sniffed the air and noted how clean it smelled, aside from the lingering stench of sweaty teenage bodies in a small room. But his brown eyes danced over the group slowly and locked with Snafu, then his cousin.

Before Babe registered what he was doing, he could feel the sudden and oppressive heat of the Alabama summer hit his face as the doors clattered loudly against the side of the trailer. His feet stamped up a small cloud of dirt around him, but his heart was pounding in his ears for other reasons. His pale face was more flushed with fear, enough for his freckles to stand out as bad as Gene’s did naturally. The redhead spun and saw that Stella had run out with him and the others were following, as well. As they all came out, with Sisk and Anna demanding to know what was wrong, Babe started counting.

Then he counted again. And a third time.

And his heart fell further into the dark pit. There were eleven people.

“I shit you fucking not,” Snafu replied when he realized Babe was counting the people in the group. “There were fucking twelve of us in there when we started cooking.”

“Well who isn’t here now,” Alley hissed sharply. His eyes were on Babe and Snafu, but they were not part of this group.

Babe realized, distantly and suddenly that this whole group was not that close. They were all friends of friends, or cousins and friends. Or, in Snafu’s case, knew Gene vaguely and stumbled upon them in the woods at the right time. While clever and observant by nature, Babe could not think of who the extra person was. No name or face, not even a voice, came to mind. He opened and closed his mouth dumbly before looking over at Gene, who shrugged as well. He looked scared, more so than any video call before heart surgery. What bothered Babe was written on his cousin’s face. Whoever this was fucking with them had been with them on and off all day to the point that they were noticed but not enough, so no one knew when they were gone.

His mind was snapped back as Stella and Vest began to pray to Jesus while Snafu scoffed, pointing out that they weren’t helping. He rolled his eyes and went with Alley and Anna to grab big sticks. The three of them looked inside the cabin, then around the area within the light’s reach but found nothing. More and Vera brought Vest and Stella inside while Gene stood at the door. He counted everyone as they walked inside and declared eleven again as he shut the door behind them.

“Why are you counting,” Lamb finally asked. She had a sweet voice. Babe never noticed, but that was somehow not shocking considering all else he didn’t notice. “What’s going on.”

“Someone was in here with us,” Gene finally said. His old manners and calmer demeanor was back now. A great façade. “There were twelve earlier and now there is eleven. And we don’t know who it was or where they went.”

Silence fell again. The sounds of the forest were back, however, and Babe focused on that. Then, Anna spoke.

“I thought something was weird,” she replied softly. “After we ran in here when y’all came back. I tried to say something but the person next to me started whispering and took hold of my hand. I was just…” She shrugged and her heavy accent became thicker with emotion. “I don’t know, I couldn’t. The words weren’t there, and I forgot until now.”

No one slept that night.

As the early summer sun rose, half the group was packed before the door to the trailer was even opened. We had spent the night completely cramped and huddled together. No one seemed to want to leave the group, and the elbows and knees in painful spots were forgiven and ignored for the sense of safety. The dawn brought a bit more comfort. Enough for people to speak again. The group was then split in what they wanted. Some wanted to go now, some wanted to wait until the sun was all the way up, and some didn’t want to leave.

“What if they’re just fucking with us,” someone had muttered at some point. And that had spread.

Babe just wanted out of the woods.

The choice was made to split up. Stella wanted to go home, as did Vest and Lamb. Alley didn’t care either way, but figured no matter what was happening, he should go with them and make sure they all got home okay. Even if it were a prank, someone could still try to hurt them. Besides, Vest and Lamb had ridden in with Gene and Stella with More. Alley had a car. So, they left before breakfast. Babe had pulled Stella to the side to ask if she really felt it was evil. The girl stared at him and only stated that she didn’t want to stay another night. She looked paler than before and her perfect French braided pigtails were messy now. They all climbed into the car and drove off. A moment later, Snafu and More started the skillet to make breakfast while the others tried to giggle off the night.

After breakfast, Babe tried to convince everyone else that we should just leave. There was no real reason to stay the second night, after all. It was a free camping spot and they could just as easily grill at someone’s house instead. Gene was at least on his side, but as it was his family’s place, he could not just leave it unattended if they were there. And Snafu, for all his snarky comments, antagonistic remarks, and baiting for fights when things were less dramatic, seemed unwilling to let people stay unprotected. That, and this was right by his family’s land. When it was clear that the other five people did not want to leave, Snafu sighed in resignation and said he would trek back up to his house and at least get a rifle and maybe a handgun. That way they could at least be safe.

The other seven made their way to the creek to swim for a while. They played football in the water. It felt like a farse for Babe, though. Like no one was taking this seriously or that last night was a fever dream. All it took was one person to say maybe he was faking this with Snafu to make everyone else decide to not take it seriously. But he played along, for the most part. Gene was the odd man out, but with the running and the scares from the night before, the other redhead decided it was for the best to sit in the shade and recover. Babe was a bit envious of that.

They returned by late afternoon to see that Snafu wasn’t back yet. Gene and Babe exchanged concerned glances but kept their mouths in tight lines. They had not argued much when he wanted to go alone because it had been broad daylight and he was getting guns. Now, Babe wished that maybe More or Anna, who both seemed tough as nails, had gone as well. Gene played it chipper and decided they should go inside with the fans on and get ready for dinner. Babe followed and shut the door. It was much roomier now, with half the people from the night before. Quieter, too. Gene and Anna were looking at the fridge while Sisk and More were on their phones. Vera was looking out the window occasionally for when Snafu returned. None of them had his number, so she promised to just open the door when he got there.

They had all been inside for about thirty minutes when Babe heard a soft knock on the wall neck to him. He had been looking for towels so they could shower soon and spun to see Vera looking concerned and confused.

“What’s up,” he asked. His voice pitched weird, but she didn’t seem to notice or care.

“I think... Stella came back.”

Babe blinked at her and hissed, “What,” before following her to the window. He was less subtle when he looked out and soon everyone else was looking too. But Stella was there alright. She had on different clothes now and her hair was fixed, but it was the right shape and size. She was facing away from the window and at the firepit, like she was waiting for them all to come back. She had been there, after all, when they discussed swimming.

“Why the fuck is she back,” More muttered. Sisk tsked next to him.

As Babe went to comment himself, he realized that suddenly the coppery scent was back. Subtle, but there. He swallowed and watched Stella from the window before letting the curtain fall. Finally, he turned to the rest of them.

“Anyone smell that again,” he asked. Gene nodded, but More rolled his eyes.

“Not the goatman shit. You probably set this us to fucking scare us.” He sounded like he only half believed himself, but that this random Northerner pulling one over on them was more logical than a supernatural stalker. Which…

Babe had to admit it was a fair point.

He opened his mouth to argue when Vera opened the door to go outside. The heat hit them all suddenly, but nothing else. Babe and Anna stared out the door while the others peeked through the curtains. Vera started to approach slowly and called out to Stella. It was like she was shocked into moving suddenly, and in a weird motion. Like she was heaving or laughing silently. A jerking, full body rock over and over again, only silent. The whole forest was silent, too. Vera froze with a hand reaching out as Stella continued to convulse.

“Vera,” Babe said in a soft but clipped tone. “Get back in here. Now.”

Vera didn’t reply. She simply stepped backwards slowly until she was at the two steps. Babe stepped to the side as she charged in. Anna closed and locked the doors again. Gene went through the trailer, pulling all the curtains and blinds down so no one could see in or out, except for Vera, who stayed at the window and occasionally checked to see if Stella had moved. After twenty minutes, Vera said she was still there and left the window for a moment. At that exact time a loud bang slammed at the door.

Everyone was in the living room again, huddled together. Vera and Anna had death grips on each other’s hands while Sisk gave out a nervous laugh. The banging happened three more times, rapidly, then Snafu’s voice rang through the door.

“Guys, let me the fuck in, quit playin me!”

Gene rushed to the door and whipped it open. Snafu stumbled in with his rifle in hand and eyes wide. He stuck his head out and looked around, but no one else was there. And no sign of where Stella had gone. He shut the doors and locked them again. He turned and looked over at the rest of them and his eyes were fixed on Snafu, who looked paler than usual.

“What the fuck happened now,” More asked, almost tired.

“Nothing,” Snafu snapped. “Not until I fucking got back here. Thought I saw fucking the crying lady…”

“Stella,” Anna offered.

“Yeah, standing by the fire. Which, weird because she was gone when I dun left. But then I got closer and it was not her. Different face and all when she looked at me. All slack jaw and blank. Just. Staring me down as I moved. I ignored her best I could, figuring she either one of your cousins…”

“Rude,” Sisk objected, but Snafu continued over him.

“Or some crazy meth head who stumbled into the camp.”

“Is that common,” Babe asked suddenly. The noncommittal noises a few of them made was little comfort.

“Anyway,” Snafu’s voice pitched over theirs before dropping again. “I started crossing the opposite side of camp and when I look back over at her, she dun get closer than I thought. But I ain’t seen her move. I checked two more times and bitch did the same thing. So, I fuckin ran again, thinkin the door would just open and it didn’t. Looked over my shoulder and she was about half the distance away.”

Snafu had been pacing as he spoke with his arms waving now that the gun was deposited on the table. He froze as he got closer to Babe. Then, he leaned in even closer, uncomfortably so.

“You know they only seven of us now, right,” he asked right next to Babe’s ear.

The heat of Snafu’s breath was not enough to stop the shiver of realization. Snafu stepped back and his wide eyes watched Babe’s for a moment, searching for something. Then he moved away and dropped down next to Gene. Babe stood, shocked suddenly. It had been back that day when they discussed what all was going to happen. Babe didn’t move from where he had become rooted.

“Gene, is she still out there,” he asked in a tight voice.

Gene looked out the window and grunted in the negative. Babe swore under his breath.

“What now,” Anna asked, sounding both worried and annoyed. Babe didn’t bother answering that yet.

“How many people were here this morning when they all left,” He asked. After a few people murmured there were eight, he gestured wildly to all of them with his accent getting heavier by the sentence. “And how many are there now?”

Vera and Sisk counted out loud and both came to seven while the others talked. Babe barely heard how Snafu told his dad that they had seen an animal and that’s why they wanted the guns rather than the truth. His cousin was coming down, too, once he got home. The blood was pounding in his ears and drowned out most of the bickering that was happening in the background as he tried to think. All of the possibilities were becoming laughably improbable. Which was unfortunate because they were also the logical options. He ignored the shouting the best he could.

“How do we know Babe ain’t fucking with us now, huh,” More asked finally.

“Do you really think he’d do that,” Gene pleaded. Distantly, Babe appreciated how hurt he sounded at that prospect.

“I don’t know. I barely know him. I don’t even know this fucker,” he pointed at Snafu who glared dangerously. “How do we know that it wasn’t Snafu in a wig?”

“Nuh, uh,” Vera replied sharply. “That girl was way too pale to be Snafu.” Anna hummed in agreement.

“Well fine,” Sisk said in a voice that oddly sounded like a person calming a maniac with a weapon. “For… argument’s sake. How do we even know that’s Snafu and someone not pretending to be him after killing him and taking his gun.”

Babe was not sure how he ever got to a point where that was proposed as a logical argument, but he didn’t even have it in him to argue it. He just let Snafu squawk in indignation as Babe looked at what he had brought back. Lots of ammunition. At least they could shoot the shit out of it. He tuned back in as Gene started to yell back, which was strange for his cousin who was normally so well balanced.

“We need to take this seriously, y’all,” he said sharply. “At worst there is a demon or some creature out there slipping in and out of the trailer somehow and none of us notice it and at best there is still someone out in the forest fucking with us.”

Gene’s large, brown eyes pleaded with the group to understand and listen. They swept over all of them, burning as they went. Even Babe averted his gaze though he had not been reprimanded. The trailer was silent again aside from the soft, muffled crying from Vera, who seemed to have finally reached her limit. She muttered how she wanted to go home, and finally More was reasonable and gentle again.

“We have to wait until morning,” he explained with a heavy sigh.

He was right. The sun was setting fast, now, and closing up the camp and getting into the cars would risk someone getting to them on the way. Silence fell again and Sisk once more put music on his phone softly. Vera is shuffled into the kitchen by Snafu to help cook as a distraction. The sun set by the time a knock came at the door. They asked Snafu if his cousin was pale with dark hair. He agreed, and they opened the door to let in the boy who turned out to be a Gene Roe, barely older than the rest of them, with a heavy-duty lantern in one hand and a rifle in the other. He had a small messenger bag over his shoulder. His dark blue eyes jumped from one person to another and his brows furrowed as Babe’s cousin Gene shut the door and locked it again.

Roe carefully set down the rifle and accepted the food but seemed to be looking around. After a few bites, he put down the plate.

“Where’s your friend,” he asked. His voice was deeper with an accent different than all the others. “She ain’t back yet?”

“What friend,” Snafu asked in a voice that seemed too practiced to be actually neutral. Roe studied him.

“The other girl, Mer. Dark hair, she seemed a bit…” he paused like he was not sure how to politely reference something. “Off,” he settled on lamely. “And what the hell have you all been doing up here, huh? Smells like y’all cooking blood or something.”

A few muddled statements were thrown out at once, which made Roe blink again in confusion. Babe spoke above all of them.

“What girl,” he asked, then found himself pinned by the dark blue eyes. He swallowed.

“Well I was comin down by the way Mer here had before. My uncle stated he was here with some girls and I saw someone I thought was your friend along the way. I tried talking to her, but she just smiled at me. Asked her if she was okay, if she needed help walkin… if she saw you.” He nodded at Snafu who shifted. “But she said nothin, so I kept walkin and said she could stay with me, so she get here safe. After a while I turned back, and she weren’t there. So, I figured she just knew a shortcut and I’d see her here.”

There was a pause. And the pause stretched. Then everyone at once started to talk over each other, explaining what had been happening. Roe, for his part, listened and nodded with his lips pressed in a thin line and his brow furrowed. Babe expected him to tell them off for fucking with him, but he never did. He just kept letting them pelt him with the information. And when the silence hung long enough, he looked up and then at Snafu, then to the rest of them. The group had all arranged themselves to surround the small table and the newcomer.

“You know… she seemed weird,” he admitted. “Like she was… trying to get behind me or something. I just thought she was injured and so I slowed down more and more until she just vanished. When I started smelling the blood she had said something, I dunno what I didn’t catch it, but I turned to ask her what it had been and she was just. Right there in my face.”

He paused and looked at his hands and shrugged.

“I went to grab her shoulder. Offer to carry her but I missed her somehow. Maybe the heat made my perception off. I told her to keep walking and that was when she dun disappeared.”

Silence filled the room for a moment yet again. They finished eating and the cousins began loading their rifles. Even More seemed satisfied that this was actually happening and not an elaborate prank dreamed up by people who had never met. Gene sat in the corner with Babe and apologized for dragging him down there for this. Babe didn’t blame his cousin. There was no way he could have foreseen this playing out as it had. No matter how crazy and terrifying it all was, Babe also knew it was not Gene’s fault. He admitted at least he had made a cool new friend or two and looked over at Snafu, who had set up post by the door while Roe taught More about the rifle so they could have watches. Babe agreed. The two cousins seemed cool, at least.

It was almost midnight when the scent came back, only worse. Now it was the bloody copper smell with burnt air mixed in. And it hit suddenly and hard. Anna choked on it, Snafu and Roe suddenly had their guns in hand and were ready when they heard a strange hiss-like breathing and a clawing sound on the door frame. It was like someone trying to get through the door, but they hadn’t worked out how the handle functioned. Worse, a shrill and whining voice that was so far from human began to speak in a poor imitation of Snafu’s earlier pleas.

“Guys,” it whined. “ Hey, let me in, quit playin.”

Variations of that continued with the wheezing, hissing breath, and the clawing. What was the most eerie that Babe did not even register at the time was how there was no cadence to the voice. It was a whine, monotonous and flat. As though there were no life behind the words. Even the computerized voices held more realism or cadence to it. But it continued to wheeze and plea in its high whine, “In” or “please let me in.” Sometimes the names said around camp were stated. “Vera,” this voice would beg. “Babe,” it said, too. Fifteen minutes of this before silence and the scent vanished for some time.

But not for long. Babe and the others had pulled up their shirts to block out the smell, but it was strong enough. It came and went in waves now, and they could hear the pacing footsteps of someone in the site. Every so often, it would come to the door and paw at it again, pleading in that same, eerie tone to be let in. It wasn’t until almost two hours later that the scent and noises stopped for more than a few minutes at a time. Finally, Snafu snapped and stormed out the door with his rifle out. Roe followed him to the threshold and put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder.

“Fuck this,” he had said as he stood. Now that he was outside, he shouted into the night after firing a few rounds into the air. “Whoever you are, go the fuck away! Be gone you fucking demon piece of shit!” He fired a few more rounds and the forest went quiet.

“Merriell you idiot,” Roe hissed as he tried to pull Snafu back in.

Then they both froze. There was a strange sound like all the air being sucked out of a room and into a vacuum. Roe grabbed his cousin by the scruff and heaved him in as the other man shot a few more rounds into the night. They both scramble into the trailer and shut the door as the night was filled out with this horrible, hollow, and deafening scream. It felt as though it shook the trailer itself as it echoed. The noises became almost feral and aggressive now.

“What the fuck did you do,” Vera accused as she curled into Sisk, who did not look any better.

“I saw something… fucking crawling or skittering I don’t know,” Snafu exclaimed over the shrieking outside. “I shot at it as Gene dun pulled me in.”

“You pissed it off is what you did,” Roe shot back at him.

The pair were sitting side by side with their backs against the door and hands clutching the rifles. For two more hours, the screaming continued. The sound of branches snapping, and large items being hurled echoed with the violent sounds. It was as though the wind had become sentient, evil, and pissed. But after a while, it died down. They looked around when it was over, and the night was still and silent. Nothing but their harsh breathing and occasional whimpers could be heard.

Everyone but Roe, who had not been up since Friday morning, passed out around four in the morning. Roe stayed up with his rifle ready and near the door as they all curled on each other. They woke up well after sunrise, but once they were up, the group was quick to pack and depart. They all piled into the remaining cars, complaining at how cramped it was now with Roe and Snafu joining them.

They drove to Snafu’s house, which was a rundown cabin of sorts. Roe had seemed oddly quiet the whole morning, even as they all went to the backyard to get in touch with everyone and exchange numbers. They stayed at Snafu’s for an additional hour before heading into town. Babe could hardly complain. Though it was in town, he could not wait to be away from the forest. The trail that led to the cabin was far too close for his liking. Roe asked him to meet up with them later in the week before Babe went home.

Two days later, they were at a café. Gene and Snafu were in line getting their coffees. Roe nodded to a secluded part of the venue and sat down across from him. Then he leaned in close and nodded for Babe to do the same. While Babe was fond of the calmer Roe, he wished he had never agreed to meet with him again after what was discussed.

“That night,” he stated quietly. Not enough, though as someone next to them coughed and moved further away. “When y’all went to sleep. I didn’t.”

“Yeah, I know that, Gene,” Babe whispered back, still feeling weird to tack the name onto someone not his Eugene. “What about it?”

“I saw someone come back from the bathroom. At some point. Just curled up with y’all. Didn’t think nothing of it at first but then I got to thinking. It felt… weird. I shoulda heard that person leave or flush. So, I pretended to be asleep and counted.”

Babe wanted him to stop talking immediately. He knew what was about to be said and never needed silence more in his life.

“There was nine of us, Edward.” Babe couldn’t even complain about the use of his name at that moment. He was too focused on the taste of bile in his mouth. “I couldn’t do anything cuz then Mer would have started shooting and who knows what woulda happened.”

“Yeah,” Babe replied. He didn’t have anything else to say, really.

“But I watched it. All night. It would just… stand up. And watch at some points. Shaking like it was laughing, then lay back down.”

“Then what,” Babe asked, wishing he didn’t immediately.

“Well… nothin,” Roe admitted. “Just… that all night. But when we got ready to go it was still there. Climbed into More’s car and drove up with us to the house. We were in the backyard parting ways when it… just went back into the forest. It looked at me dead in the eyes again and smiled. And just… disappeared into the trees.”

Babe was silent and staring forward. He swallowed.

“I went back yesterday to the trailer. Just to see what happened. Didn’t see… anything. Other than the bathroom window. No screen on it, and it was slid up enough for something to crawl in and out unnoticed.”

Babe never wanted to be home more than in that moment.


	2. Rosie the Doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate suffers Ray and George's idiocy after Leckie let them listen to an episode of Lore.

“Ray…” Nate started, sighing in defeat. Above him he heard Leckie laugh and Nate just groaned again and lifted his head. “This is your fault.”

Leckie inclined his head in agreement, but the smirk didn’t leave. To his left sat Ray, grinning wide with his dimples in full view. He had, apparently, purchased haunted dolls off of eBay. Each had their own story, naturally. And all of them were from heavily suspicious accounts. At best, Nate hoped that Ray simply lost money on these purchases. Not because he believed in the concept of evil dolls or possessed items—religious horror was rarely something he bought into or bothered with—but Ray was imaginative. Worse, he was good at getting himself excited. And where Ray left off, George was quick to hop in.

And, of course, George had apparently pitched in to buy one. How the building stood with them as roommates was a mystery.

“I think Nate is finally accepting this all may be real,” Luz laughed. Nate only groaned.

“Why do I associate with you?” he asked blandly before stabbing at his salad.

Nate knew the answer, of course. Ray was a freshman, as was George, but both were in his class last semester. They were smart, funny, and incredibly quick to pick up difficult concepts. He and Leckie were both fans of their intellect. While Leckie reveled in their idiocy, however, Nate was torn between amused adoration and long-suffering annoyance. He was fairly sure that was the life he had doomed himself to. Now, complete with supposedly haunted dolls. He vaguely wished he had taken the smaller scholarship elsewhere at times.

They had watched an episode of Lore with Robert the Doll. Of course, that led to the two freshmen looking it up on their phones. And then four days of them on the sub-reddit nosleep. It was not productive, but it was definitely enlightening to how quickly Ray became obsessed with an idea and how eager Luz was to make it worse for his own entertainment. Nate realized he probably needed to warn their RA about this in case people heard third-party about the damn dolls and started thinking the building was haunted. But he also realized he would now spend the rest of the semester dealing with stories that Ray would tell of these damn dolls.

He was sure he could flirt with the mail office clerks enough to make sure these packages got lost. It was worth it. Maybe.

“When this all comes around that you wasted money, I’m not helping you set up a page to sell them all back.” Nate informed them solemnly. Leckie laughed. Nate kicked him under the table.

That would have been that. In fact, Nate had all but forgotten about the dolls until he had gone over Ray and George’s room a week or so later. It was the usual cluttered disaster he had come accustomed to. George was in a state of rebellion having been the oldest of some insane number of siblings. Ray just seemed to not care, though Nate had a feeling it was much the same ideal. Not having to clean the house for his single mother working two jobs was probably a gift. He was looking over some notes while he waited for the pair when something caught his eye. Nate looked up at the wall locker and his brows furrowed for a moment. Realization crashed on him, and the man sighed heavily.

“I see your friends came in,” he replied blandly, looking away from the doll. 

It was the standard porcelain face that was uncomfortably blank. She was painted with eyelashes stuck on moving lids. Her hair was in two ruddy braids and she wore a simple dress. The usual, perfectly pretty dolly his sister would have wanted over a decade ago. Nate scowled at it and looked back at Ray, who blinked.

“Oh, that’s Rosie. Yeah, we put her up there because one of her eyes is wonky and creeped us out.”

“You bought haunted dolls and hid them because they creeped you out,” Nate asked. Ray nodded and the blond could only shake his head. “She the only one then?”

“The only one we don’t like,” George replied where he was bent behind his desk. “Tilly and Maisey are fine. We think someone found antique dolls and said they were haunted.”

Nate didn’t comment that he was sure that was what happened with all of them. Instead he licked his lips, turned to the side, and cast one final look at Rosie. They were headed out, after all. And he did not have the time or the wherewithal to work through whatever logic those two were running on. 

The lopsided eyes of Rosie startled Nate more than he wanted to admit, however. For the rest of the night, he could almost feel eyes on him. Vaguely, he knew he was buying into it all more than he had wanted. It was easier to ignore when he had not taken a look at any of the dolls. But now that he had seen the blank stare and eerie expressionless look of the doll, Nate was ashamed to say he was unsettled. Not that he would tell anyone, of course. He kept it to himself and within the first hour of their outing around the town, he was feeling better. After all, it was all superstition. He knew better and had to simply remain logical. Curses only existed in the old books of his classic literature volumes.

That was why he almost ignored his phone ringing at 2am. He figured it was Ray messing with him now that he had talked about the dolls again. So, he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. The phone kept buzzed and finally, his roommate Bill Leyden grumbled about answering the fucking phone. Nate rolled his eyes and groped around for it and slid the phone icon to the side.

“What,” he snapped into the phone. But silence was on the other line. “Ray, I swear to god, I will go over there and beat you if you don’t stop calling.”

A soft, tinkling giggle was the response he got in return. Nate sucked a breath in and waited. He could hear the unmistakable sound of someone’s deep breathing and the background snoring. Nate licked his lips and looked at the phone. The second ticked by and he thought he could hear the giggle again. Like a child.

“Joshua Ray cut it out,” he whispered and ignored the way that Bill told him to shut the fuck up and go to bed.

Nate grumbled and hung up. It started to ring, but he sent it to voicemail and silenced the phone. He didn’t have time to deal with his idiocy.

The next morning, he had one voicemail from the night before, but Nate cleared the notification as his roommate, a short blond from New York with a harsh personality glared at him. Nate explained that his friends thought it’d be funny to play a prank on him. The answer satisfied him but did not make the man any less annoyed as they walked down to the cafeteria with their meal cards in hand. They ran into Leckie, who looked like he had not slept all night. Beside him were oddly still and sheepish Ray and George. Nate narrowed his eyes in confusion and headed their direction. Bill followed, though his own set of friends were not there yet.

“I have a feeling these two did something wrong.” Nate began politely.

“They were causing hell all night is what.” Leckie complained as he ate his granola.

“For the last time, we were asleep all night.” George replied more to his cereal than anything. 

Ray said nothing.

“Asleep aside from the phone call from last night,” Bill snapped. “Or maybe it was seven of them. How many were there, Nate?”

Nate watched Ray.

“We didn’t call you guys,” George replied again. “We went to sleep because the past three nights we were up playing Call of Duty. Ask Smokey!”

“Ray called my phone last night,” Nate finally replied. “I even have a voicemail after answering and hanging up.”

Ray stayed silent and only sipped his coffee. Nate watched and scrunched his nose a bit. There was something off about him, if not defeated. It was weird. Uncomfortable.

“Ray?”

“What does it matter?” Ray muttered after he swallowed. “You already decided it was me, so no point in arguing. Just like we were making noise last night.”

“Ray…” George started.

“Don’t give us that shit.” Bill snapped. “What do you think. We’d just buy into whatever the fuck you’re trying to play. We get it. Fucking haunted dolls.”

“Leyden. Shut up. Ray,” Nate turned and noticed that the smaller guy had stood up and headed to dump his food completely untouched. He glared at his roommate. “Chug some fucking coffee before you crawl up anyone else’s ass. I’m not bailing you out of jail for a fight.”

Bill flipped him off as Nate stood and jogged after Ray. He called a few times only to be ignored. Ray just walked out of the Student building and headed toward the library. Nate followed him the whole way and into the Library. The man dodged into the bookshelves, forgetting that Nate lived at the place. He headed Ray off by silent study and dragged him into one of the group study rooms that was left unlocked. Nate spun his friend and flipped on the light and was shocked to see in the pale lighting how hurt and blank Ray was watching him back. Nate sighed and shut the door, locked it, and pulled the blinds down.

“What is going on?” he asked.

“Nate. I swear to fucking God I didn’t call you last night. Look,” he fished out his phone and tossed it to the table. “There’s no way I could have called you.”

Nate’s gaze slipped from his friend’s face to the phone. The screen was smoked and cracked from the inside. The screen protector was still intact. Nate’s brow furrowed and he looked back up at Ray, who was now looking shaky like the time he had taken caffeine pills with a Red Bull and Vodka on a dare. Those expressive, bright eyes closed off and his lips were in a tight line.

“What happened to your phone, Ray.”

“I don’t know. I woke up this morning and couldn’t find it. If that happened under my pillow, I would have probably fucking felt it, but it wasn’t there. Or on my bed or beside it.”

Nate licked his lips and swallowed. He knew Ray slept with the phone by his pillow in case his mother called about his grandma. She was in the hospital so much he practically lived in fear that any class would prevent the last call he’d be able to take from the woman. He was a disaster in many ways, but the phone was taken care of better than most kids did their textbooks in hope of getting a third the money back. Ray’s eyes pleaded to be understood.

“Where was it?” he finally asked.

“George found it in the corner by the desk. The wall for a few inches around it was all smoky and dirty. I swear. I went to sleep last night and slept the whole way through.”

Nate licked his lips again then pulled his bag to his side and fished out his ear pods and phone. He handed one to Ray and put one in his ear. As he did so, the man explained that he hadn’t listened to the voicemail and what the call he had answered sounded like. That it was heavy breathing like someone was sleeping and soft giggles. Ray stared hard at him, but Nate tried to ignore it as he fidgeted with the phone. He finally got it loaded and played it. At first it was silent other than the two breathing in the background. If Ray were honest, that would be George and Ray snoring. Then the soft giggle echoed again. They both stared at the phone as the timer ticked by on the two-minute voicemail. Near silence fell on the call again, then the giggle a little louder.

 _”Is it play time?”_ the voice asked. It was almost too thin and high to be heard over the snoring. _”I want to play now.”_

More giggles followed and similar comments played out. She wanted to play. Did he want to have fun? It was all slowly said as if stretched out on Audition. Then it went silent and the sound of crackling came over the phone. Nate looked over at Ray and found his eyes glued to the screen. He was hardly breathing and not blinking. The voice came back, and sharply.

 _”Oh, Nathaniel.”_ it scolded and there was a pop and the voicemail ended.

“Where is Rosie?” Nate breathed before he could gather his thoughts.

“I don’t know,” Ray replied. Nate looked up at him and Ray rubbed his hair. “I didn’t exactly look for the dolls. She couldn’t have exactly unlocked the door and left.”

“Yeah, well, she also shouldn’t have been able to call me. Do you even have my name in the phone as Nathaniel?”

“No, you’re still F-M-L” Ray replied. _Fuck me lips,_ Nate noted and snorted. “What should we do.”

“Find the stupid doll and get rid of it.”

The pair of them went on their break between classes. It was quiet on the second floor as they went up the stairs first to Nate’s room. The third floor, however, was like an explosion had gone off with noise. Nate and Ray looked around and carefully walked over to the source of the commotion. There, Leckie stood with Winters, and from the looks of it the former was trying to explain what happened over the sound of people clamoring for a better view. Finally, the normally quiet and passive redhead yelled above them all to shut up. Leckie locked eyes on Ray and Nate; Ray attempted to hide behind his friend.

“And you’re sure you saw no one leaving the bathroom when you found it?” Winters spoke as though he had tried to ask that question a few times.

Leckie shook his head as Nate inched closer. At first, his mind was jared at the sight of so much red. But then he recognized the way it shimmered in the light, or in this case the way it seemed flat even wet. It was a deep red paint that was used for effect. Which it was, of course. He stood on his toes to see inside and part of the mural was visible: “—NT TO PL—" was scrawled messily on the wall by the sinks, across the mirror. There was splatter all over the sink and the floor, but Nate noted that the trash cans had been knocked over and formed what was almost like a path to jump up like a platforming game. He ducked back and grabbed Ray by the scruff before hiding in Ray’s room.

“Well, I think we can safely say Rosie has left the room.” he muttered.

They still searched. They had begun to put the room back together when Leckie appeared in the room looking irate. His arms were crossed, and one hand was tucked back. He shut the door then tossed a little doll on the bed. It was Rosie with her blank, pretty face and perfect hair.

“Ray, this isn’t cute,” he snapped just as the pair asked hurriedly where he found her. “She was in the bathroom by one of the fucking shitters. What the fuck, Ray?”

“Bob, he didn’t do it,” Nate attempted to pacify him with a hand up. “I’ve been with him since eight this morning when we met up for lunch.”

“So, what. She was going Dora the Explorer on the dorms?” When they didn’t reply, only stared with tight lips, Leckie laughed hollowly and shook his head. “I’m not playing along. Have your fun on a different floor so I don’t get in fucking trouble again.”

Leckie walked out shutting the door behind him. Nate and Ray were left staring at Rosie as though she were unexploded ordnance.

“This is stupid,” Luz bitched from the couch.

They had all three decided to get a hotel room for the night. It was a little unsettling how okay the lady at the desk was about three men wanting a single queen room. Brad could bitch all he wanted about East Coast pussy liberal towns, but they just saved them a lot of money. Leyden promised to get rid of the fucking doll but drew the line at driving off campus to stay elsewhere, so he was back in the room. They had gotten Ray a new phone with Nate’s earnest expression and the other two mastering sad eyes getting it put on warranty. Clearly an electrical issue that could have been a danger had Ray slept with it on the bed, of course. They were able to get some of the hardware out, such as the SIM and memory cards, but the rest was toasted.

It was almost midnight when they settled down and finished their homework. Nate and Ray had decided to take the bed. George picked the couch as he was the smallest of the three. The light had gone out when Nate’s phone buzzed. The room froze for a second until he saw it was Bill texting. He blinked, then opened the phone.

_Where are you guys?_

Nate texted back the address, then added if everything was okay.

_I thought I heard you come in the room when I was shitting but nothing._

_You sure you’re not back._

Nate replied that they were all about to sleep. There was silence for a while then another buzz.

_OMW._

Ten minutes later, a knock came at the door. Ray opened it and Bill stepped in and shut it behind him. He looked at them all in their boxers and shirts then around the room. It was clear that they had not rushed here to settle a prank. George’s hair was slightly sleep-mussy as he had dozed off and Ray had a crease from the pillow dug into his face. Nate blinked the drowsiness from his eyes.

“What the fuck, Bill?”

“I don’t know. I could hear breathing in the room, but no one was there. So, I fucking booked it here.” He sounded breathless like he was not sure what to believe what he was saying.

“Did you get rid of the fucking doll,” George croaked as Bill dropped onto the couch.

“I mean, I put her in a bag and threw her in the dumpster. What, do you think she is like a Ouija Board now?” The mocking tone from earlier was gone now. Nate blinked again and dragged his hand down his face.

“She’s probably in our room now,” he muttered. “We’ll… fucking get her again and toss her off a cliff or in a fire in the morning. If this all is real, she still can’t hijack a car and drive it here.”

George joined the bed as Bill took over the couch. Nate woke up with Ray’s bony elbow in his side and George’s hand on his face. They were both snoring. Bill was asleep as well. He blinked a few times at the ceiling wondering why he had woken up. It was dark still, maybe four or five by his biological clock. The man wiggled his way to sitting and reached over the body of one of his friends to look at his phone. There was a message on it from Leckie.

_I think I believe you now._

The sight shouldn’t have shocked them as much as it did. The four men stared at Nate and Bill’s room and a long sigh came from his nose. Ray’s room was just as bad, only they had the other two dolls hanging from the desk, splattered in some substance. Bill’s bed was in disarray and Nate’s was slashed like a knife had been taken to it. Thankfully all his books were fine, locked in his wall locker with a code. Leckie had joined them outside of Ray’s room as he had been the one to pound on the door until Winters let him in and they found the hanging dolls. He was now standing beside them, looking exhausted. Winters was there, looking both displeased and in disbelief.

Nate could sympathize.

“Do you have any idea where she is sir?” Ray asked quietly. Winters sighed out of his nose.

“No,” he offered. “But I have an idea. This is not the worst that happened last night.”

The four eyes turned and looked at him. Leckie looked away. Winters told them that one of the people on the second floor had been brought to the hospital for what seemed like an attempted suicide. However, the young man swore he hadn’t done anything and had been asleep until he felt the pain, which was why he started screaming and ran for help. Winters, at first, figured this would end in a psych evaluation for the young man, as he swore he woke up to a doll on his chest watching him. Now Dick looked like he didn’t know what to believe.

“Second floor it is,” Nate muttered. “I guess we’re all staying here for the last few hours.”

Winters and Leckie decided to wait in Ray and Luz’s room just in case. The other four crammed into the two twin beds and curled their legs up in the dark. It was silent for a while with the light not making it all the way through the blinds. Something creaked in the room. They all stayed silent. Next to Nate, Ray shifted awkwardly, and Nate took his hand. They all slowed their breathing as more rustling came through the room. Then tiny footsteps. The sounds inched closer and closer with a ragged hiss. Nate felt the pressure shift on the bed and immediately, Ray turned the table lamp on.

Rosie laid on the bed, limp as though she had been dropped. A clatter echoed after and Nate looked over the side to see a knife fall to the ground. It was already stained from previous use. Probably the freshman she got to earlier in the night. He sat up straight and Ray was staring at her. After a moment, Leyden walked over and bundled her into a pillowcase with the knife. Winters was messaged by George and the four drove back to the hotel they had rented. It was by the beach.

Bill, who smoked, found some kindling, and used the lighter fluid for his zippo to douse the pillowcase, which they checked repeatedly that she was still in there with it. They tossed her into one of the small barbecues and set her on fire. They watched as the pillowcase curled away, as did her hair and clothes. Finally, the material slowly melted away and cracked in the heat. It was not yet sunrise when they took what was left of her, melted onto stones and dirt, and tossed her into the water as far as they could throw and headed back to the room.

Bill took his place on the couch again. Nate laid down between George and Ray. All four of them decided they were skipping their morning classes, now. He had drifted off by the time the light would have poured in through the curtains had they not been drawn shut. In the back of his mind, however, he swore he heard a soft, tinkling giggle by his ear as he fell asleep.


	3. This Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex Penkala and Walt Hasser find themselves with a face watching them. There is something too unsettling about that wide, toothless grin.

Alex froze as he brought his card to the swipe mechanism and frowned. It was almost like he could not stop the sensation that someone was watching him. That would be normal in a grocery store if it were not the vampire hour. The only people who were in Safeway at this hour were students or people with fucked sleep schedules from work or poor choices. He was the latter thanks to work. He waited for a moment and looked around. There was a strange man in the corner of the self-checkout who was completely unremarkable in every way—average height, heavy brow, dark eyes, and hair. Maybe his head was a bit round and his mouth a bit wide, but he was nothing to write home about, so to speak. But he was just watching back rather than checking his own stuff out. Alex blinked and offered a small nod of acknowledgement. The man smiled wide, impossibly so in a smile that was more unsettling than friendly.

He checked out and forgot the man by the time he woke up the next afternoon for his shift. There was more important things in the world than some weirdo who was probably tweaking, after all.

Alex lived with his best friend Skip in a house he had found on craigslist. It was owned by a young, married couple who were impossibly in love to the point of almost being nauseating if it were not completely genuine. Harry was the owner and had at first been unsure about having two fresh college graduates move into his home. A year later, the four got along quite well with Harry working as a teacher, Kitty still in school as she took time off to help with her own siblings, and Skip working as a mechanic in town. Alex had the off schedule as a 9-1-1 operator. A month ago, the night before the strange man, he had a new hire Walter join. He had complained to his housemates that he was not sure if Walt would have it in him to work dispatch. It was a rough line of work that left him feeling more helpless than not.

Tonight, he was glad he gave the young man a chance. They were out at a small dive bar where Walt’s friend Burgin worked. Burgin, who desperately hated his first name to a level that surpassed Skip, was a bright eyed and even-tempered man much like Walt. They were about the same height with the same blue eyes, heavy jaws, and thick head of hair, though the former was a brunette and the latter was a blond. Alex felt the prickle once again down his neck and immediately thought Skip was messing with the back of his neck like he did when Alex zoned out for too long. It was an upgrade from flicking his ear, so there was little to bitch about. This time, however, Skip’s hands were occupied as he texted fast pace to his girlfriend. Walt was fiddling with the corner of his napkin and chatting with Burgin.

He turned to see if maybe Don had joined them or even Harry coming out of his hiding hole. Instead he saw in the back of the room a familiar figure he couldn’t place. But the smile, slow and creeping at a pace that was almost stop-motion in nature brought back the same man from the grocery store. He turned around sharply and looked forward again. The sensation of being watched didn’t leave and Alex fought with himself to not look behind him until it was too much to bear. When he did, the man was gone again.

“Hot chick over there,” Skip asked casually and looking back as well. Alex flushed and groaned.

“No, some guy.” Alex glared when Skip gave a nonjudgmental huff in response as if that were where the conversation was headed. “Not like—I could have sworn I saw him before is all. He was smiling weird both times.”

“Maybe he thinks you’re cute,” Skip replied casually and looked around. “No one looking over here now. You sure you’re not just tired?”

Alex sighed. Because his friend had a point. He was tired. So, he said nothing and simply went back to his beer and sipped. The prickle in the back of his mind almost felt pawing now as he fought to not turn around. He ignored the way he felt the constriction in his chest of a pointless panic attack. And he pointedly kept his attention from the way the dark parts of the bottles bottom lit on the backbar looked like hollow, dark eyes watching him intently, imploring him to pay attention.

That night he felt something following him in the back of his mind to the Uber. Skip watched him carefully the whole way. Maybe he was more drunk than he realized in his paranoia. Whatever it was, Alex felt on edge the whole ride. He kept looking at the driver as if he face was going to become the man in the corner. It never happened.

“Hey, can I ask you something weird,” Walt asked one night on their break.

The pair were in the room off to the side by the vending machine that was always half empty. They had been out drinking just the other night and Walt had been looking a bit off. Alex partially thought it was the week that had stressed him out, but it had been a relatively quiet one. Not that it meant much, but it was not quite the hell they were used to at other times of the year. So, Alex hummed in response and waited patiently for the young man to lick his lips and fiddle with the cuff of his sweatshirt.

“I heard you the other night about a dude watching you,” he offered apologetically. As if it were some secret. Alex just hummed again. “And I had taken a few pictures that night of us because. You know.”

Because he was more interested in being active on social media and also has a girl he was flirting with. Alex knew quite well. The older man smirked for a second before the blush crept up Walt’s neck and he needed with his sheepish half smile.

“Yeah, well. I… Was it this guy?”

Walt slid the phone over and the picture of them, though Skip was on his phone and Alex had a glass up to his mouth, was of the group. It was clear Burgin had taken it because of the angle. In the corner was that face. Staring oddly bright and in focus for how far back into the dimly lit room he was. Alex froze and instinctively slid to the next one, not realizing that Walt may have some less than work-friendly images next. But it was a few more of that night. One right after another. And each one he had the man in the photograph. He was always staring with those blank, dead eyes and the thin, long smile that stretched impossibly wise without teeth showing. After the fourth picture he dropped the phone and looked at Walt, who was paled.

“I thought so,” he commented. “I… don’t remember seeing him all night and I even asked Burgy but.”

Walt shrugged with tense shoulders. Alex looked at the pictures again. He slid through them and then past the last one from that night and looked back to Walt, who nodded. The man’s reflection was in a picture of Walt. One that was clearly taken for said girl he was talking to. He was shirtless with a thumb teasingly in the band of his shorts, pulling that corner lower. He had the phone over his face, and in the bounced reflection from the medicine cabinet’s mirror was a pale, wide and round face with hollow eyes and a tight smile. One that was not reflected anywhere else in the picture, and one that Walt clearly had no idea was there in the moment as he was actively focusing on holding his breath and flexing.

“Just you,” he asked.

“That I know of. I asked Burgin about him, but he had never seen the man before in his life until last night when he said he swore he saw the guy in the crowd by the train station to school. Kitty had pointed him out.”

“Did he say anything?” Walt shook his head in response, so Alex continued. “We’re just imagining it. Surely. This is just… that complex where our brains are imagining him because we’re paranoid.”

“Maybe, I mean this is something that happens on the internet all the time. One person asks about a guy and next thing you know, it’s like finding Jesus in your toast on in the fog on a window.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, though he felt as assured as Walt had sounded. “Yeah. Thanks, though Walt.”

Alex was laying in bed that night. He was struggling because he wanted to take a picture. He wanted to see if he was there. He wanted proof that this all ways collective insanity based off of their active imagination and too much time listening to or watched horror content. It was dark in his room save for the ambient glow from his computer that had a black screen ambient playlist on. Just enough to dance eerily on the walls, but not enough to actually illuminate anything properly. It was how he liked to sleep after years in busy cities and by the campus. He needed the break from the excitement. It was peaceful for the most part. He could hear cars, sure, and a few people talking on the street, but it was all peaceful background noise that lulled him away from the panic welling in his chest.

He was not sure at what point he drifted off, but he felt himself pulled wearily from sleep. He was foggy as if it were a deep sleep he had been startled from, but it was a slow process still. Alex blinked a few times and narrowed his eyes, blinked, and looked around. It was silent in his room. Not the normal quiet that still held ambient noise, but completely silent and still. There was no noise coming from his laptop, only the light flickering of the pixels. As his eyes adjusted, he blinked and looked to his corner and his heart stopped.

He seemed to emanate his own light. His heavy brow making those dark eyes look as though they were empty holes in his skull. The shadow under his lip made his smile almost highlighted and loner. And he stood there just off the wall watching with that empty, slack jawed face. And watched. Alex twitched his hand desperate to move only to feel as though his hands were frozen in place. He couldn’t even hear his own, shaky breathing as he inhaled. He closed his eyes and willed himself back to sleep or tried to. When he opened his eyes and looked to another part of the room, his face was there again. Watching and smiling, though now it was open and baring his teeth.

Alex screamed, or he tried to. He could feel the way his vocal cords tore in effort, but nothing came out. He struggled and tried again, but nothing. His body did not shift from its spot on the bed and his voice remained missing despite the feeling of it there. Alex began to hyperventilate, feeling the fear course through him. He was cold, now, but sweating from the shifting and struggles that gained nothing. He closed his eyes and panted for a half minute before opening them to find the man smiling and the foot of the bed. His mouth was wide now, and the teeth that always seemed hidden were illuminated in the dull light. Thin, crooked, and jagged needles lined his maw as the man watched with those hollow eyes. Though there was no way to tell, he could feel them pierce deep. And all Alex could do was struggle and watch back.

Slowly, like a shadowed cat, the man put one hand, then the other, on the bed and lifted himself up. He crawled his way along Alex’s prone form. While the bed did not shift under the weight of this person, but he could feel the warmth like a fire and the pressure disproportionate to the figure as he moved. Alex thrashed and tried his best to unstick his body from the position he was in, but nothing helped. The climb halted when the man was face to face with the prone man and watching him with those hollow eyes. Alex could feel the tears welling in his eyes as he struggled and screamed for anyone to help him.

It’s a dream, he though for a moment before the hand gripped his throat and slowly squeezed. The smile grew and darkened as Alex coughed and struggled more. There was a wheezing sound like a hissing laugh that echoed in the deafening silence of his room. All he could do was feel the way his head clouded and breathing became difficult. The man wanted nothing more than to close his eyes, but even his lids refused to obey now, and he waited as darkness finally took him.

He woke with a start.

Alex charged out of bed, drenched in sweat. The room was as it had been hours before. His feet took him to the bathroom where he flicked on the light and the scream died in his throat. There stretching the diameter of his neck were the long imprints of fingers that had wrapped there the night before. He gingerly touched it and hissed at the tenderness of the flesh as well as the startling warmth it had as though he had been branded. His hand dropped away, and he looked to the side then jumped as another face was in the mirror.

Skip watched him with concerned eyes. Alex could only blink and open and close his mouth dumbly a few times.

“Nightmare?” Skip asked, though his eyes were stuck on the back of his neck.

“I-“ his voice was rough as though he had been doing every bit of the screaming he dreamt. “I thought I was going to die.”

“You’re lucky it’s just me home or Kitty would have thought that was the case,” Skip commented. His eyes were still narrow and watching. “What happened to your neck.”

“He was in my room,” Alex whispered. That was really all he could manage. “That was why I was screaming. I was… stuck. Unable to move and he…”

Skip crossed over and looked at Alex’s neck. The shorter man winced slightly at the touch, but he did not jerk away. Skip’s expression darkened to one of deep concern now. They were there, after all, Alex guessed. The marks were clear enough for Skip to notice they were not marks from a smudge. They went back to his room and flicked on the lights to find nothing extraordinary. No man, no proof he was there other than the bruises. The music was still playing lightly, and the laptop had not even been jostled from the corner it sat on the mattress. Outside of the screaming Skip confirmed he heard, there was no proof anything happened. And Alex hated that more than if he had found anything to prove he was not crazy. He frowned and looked at Skip, who was equally as troubled.

Alex stayed in Skip’s room the rest if the night, huddled in the overstuffed bean bag chair he had bought stoned one night online. It would have been a stretch of the imagination to say he slept, but there was at least an additional hour of unconsciousness that he could recall. Something that resembled sleep, but his mind had raced the whole time. The next morning was dreary and gray, something like a terribly ironic metaphor considering how the night had gone. Alex was less than amused by this. All the same, he was not impressed.

That night, they went to the bar. At first, they did not see Burgin there or Walt and Alex thought the worst. Had he somehow caused this man to follow the other guy, as well? Or worse, what if Walt was already linked to him and Walt passed it along through their growing friendship. He had been, after all, in the picture from the bedroom. It was an hour before the blond would show up looking flustered and uncertain. He had on a stylish scarf, which was not out of place in the cooler season but not exactly Walt’s normal style. He eyed the man, who ducked away sheepishly from the gaze. Alex belated realized it may also just be hickeys from the girlfriend and not a murderous, nonexistent man who attacks people in their sleep like Freddie.

The man slid into the seat beside him with a hollow expression, then blinked up with his eyes falling to the way Alex bundled the hood of his sweatshirt higher than necessary. His expression tightened and he ordered them a drink. The other bartender served them. Still no sign of Burgin, though it was his shift. Almost reading his mind, Walt muttered under his breath.

“Burgin was attacked last night on the way to his car. He’s home.”

Alex blinked, startled at this, and looked over at Walt, who was watching him carefully. Exhausted and dark bags had dug themselves under his eyes and the man’s jaw worked enough that the muscle protruded. Alex’s mouth opened hopelessly a few times before the bartender returned with their drinks. He thanked her blankly and looked at the amber liquid inside. When he looked up again, Alex jumped. For a moment, like a blur in the corner of his eye, he swore the man was behind Walt, hovering and perched on him like a bird on every stereotypical pirate portrait. The look of horror must have shown because the blond turned sharply and looked around.

But there was no one there except the regulars and the few college aged kids playing pool and arguing over the radio station. The only dark eyed person was distinctly the opposite in appearance and loudly proclaiming something unintelligible.

“I need to use the rest room,” Alex said abruptly.

He disappeared to wash his face and catch his breath. Maybe the bright, artificial light would wash away the creeping ideas that the man would come out of the shadows. It was ridiculous, after all. He stepped into the dingy gray room with a flickering light bulb over the sink. The bathroom was always strange feeling from the old wiring, but the isolation was comfortable. There was no way to sneak up on him, after all. So, he felt fine splashing water on his face and sighing into the silence.

The light bulb groaned and flickered violently.

He looked up and saw a shadow in the corner and spun around. The lights flickered heavily again, like a storm was causing a brown-out. The world beyond the door was muffled and distant sounding. And his focus was on the man smiling at him from the door. On the other side of it, he could hear what sounded like someone fighting to open it. A familiar scream on the other side sounded like it could be either panic or annoyance. He could only focus on the hollow eyes and eerie smile.

He moved like he was sliming across the ground. The shadows marked his movement as he smiled more as he got closer. Alex again felt his body tense and the voice die in his throat as he went to call for help. Around him, the lights flickered and creaked in the old, almost stereotypical way basement lights crackle before turning off. A whirring hum behind him as the room seemed to get darker and the sounds grow more distant. All except the wheezing laughter, huffing like soft hisses from the needled mouth. The lights flickered and groaned again.

And then darkness.

“We don’t know what’s wrong,” a voice said. It was distant and unfamiliar. “He’ll go into fits and scream if the lights are off.”

“Well, what happened,” another voice asked. This one was deep and rich.

“He was the one who looked through the wallet to make sure he wasn’t mugged in the bathroom,” the first voice replied. “He found a weird card in it and took for screening as it seemed out of place. He keeps screaming about a man in the corner.”

Alex laid with his eyes shut. The lights had been on for weeks now as he recovered. The first week, eh had screamed, too. They turned off the light as though it would let him rest, but every time that face would glow in the corner and inch forward until the lights were turned back on. He was safe for now. That man seemed to never want to be in the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These have become oddly therapeutic. If anyone has suggestions on what to do next, let me know!


	4. Slenderman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim Bryan, Carwood Lipton, Eddie Jones, Ron Spiers, and Andrew Haldane spend a few nights finding out that maybe there is more to fear than darkness in the woods behind their town.

A lot happened in the outskirts of big cities, especially at the walk-in clinics. Tim had become almost numb to the constant movement of questionable people and stories as the clinic’s main physician alongside a few others and some nurses. For him, the position was one that afforded him both the experience that was desperately needed for his training as a doctor as well as a level of self-rule that his fiercely independent streak kept him from playing well with others. He was not always the smartest man in the room, but he was usually the most logical. And because of that, the overly passionate idiocy of some drove his own short temper to the point of an explosion.

But here, on the outskirts of town, it was quieter. Weird cases, sick children, and more often than not the injuries obtained by people who were avoiding the urgent care close to the hospital and police stations. The latter of these options was usually because of drug addicts or young adults who did not want their parents catching them joy riding or doing something stupid.

That night was something of a dark lull in the usual easy bustle. He was with some of his preferred coworkers, he would hardly call them friends after all, when someone drove into the parking lot at a high speed. It was a jeep or some kind of SUV with how high the lights sat. The man’s brows furrowed, and he looked at Stinetorf and Spina. They both blinked back at him with their dark eyes. A man came through with a body limp in his hands a second later with her features wrapped in triage bandages. In an instant, the doctor and two nurses were on their feet and over the desk.

Tim almost started with anger at the man who had carried her in until he took a closer look at who it was and paused. It was not that big of an area they lived in out that way, so it was easy to recognize one Carwood Lipton, the man who was a volunteer firefighter during the peak camping seasons, such as right now. And the reason for the SUV rather than his small Prius was answered as another man bustled through with his wild, tan curls a mess with frustration and fear—Eddie Jones, Carwood’s neighbor. Carwood cradled the girl to him as Spina led the way to one of the rooms as Tim drew level to Eddie. The man was paler than usual with his bright gray eyes hollow and terrified. His work shirt, the tan of the local sheriff’s office, was stained crimson with the child’s blood and what looked like dirt and grass.

“What happened,” Tim barked sharply. He did not bother keeping the hard tone out of his voice. Eddie was a damn good officer and handled worse tones on the daily.

“Ain’t got the slightest, doc,” the man breathed. He looked around and ran his hand over his face. “Lip and I been walking the dogs together. Been seeing some coyotes and coys out in the way recently so it just safer and all that. Heard some chatter and crying off the road and Trigger went all crazy with fright. Car handed her off to me and took my side arm to check it out and found her there.”

“Do you know who she is,” Tim asked.

“Nuh, uh,” Eddie replied. “Ain’t got time knocking on doors with how we found her. Figure my office will find in a few hours when her mam come looking.”

“Did he see who did this,” Tim asked. Eddie shook his head. “Why not?”

“Take a look outside, doc. Ain’t exactly a romantic evening out.”

Tim scowled and looked over the man’s shoulder and took in the night. He strode forward and pushed the door open to find the fogged glass was only partially why it had been difficult to make out who had driven up. The night was dark with the clouds covering the moon and stars from casting any light. And a dense mist seemed to coil along the ground and trees. Any assistance given by the amber glow of the streetlights was rendered useless by how thick it all was. Lip was a sharp man, but he doubted even Darrell would have been able to catch details in this. Tim swore to himself and let the door shut.

At that time, Spina came out with a pale face. Impressive, as he was normally a rich olive skin tone. He did not say much, but simply nodded into the room. Eddie sighed and nodded as well. The smaller man turned toward the desk to fill out the paperwork required. Stinetorf handed him the clipboard and a bottle of water with the same gentleness that the man approached everything. He was a good man.

Inside, Tim noted the uncanny sense of dread and pain that lingered in the room. He would have thought the girl was dead if not for the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Her face was still wrapped and Carwood sat next to her with his warm eyes pinched and filled with tears. The doctor was hardly one who was emotional. But that scene, a man moved to tears at the sight of an injured stranger, tugged low. The Lipton effect, as they teasingly called it, perhaps.

He approached carefully and slow as not to startle either. Lipton looked up and sighed from his nose with a practiced smile that was so brittle and false it was almost a mockery. Tim looked to the little girl and noted she was a brunette with tan skin caked in bloodied mud. Her jacket and jeans were torn with her undershirt smudged in dirt. It was the pattern of blood, however, that drew his attention the most. His sharp gaze flickered to Lipton for a moment then back to the wrapping around her head. He carefully moved forward and lifted the bandages and surprised himself with the disgusted gasp that escaped. He understood, now, how two strong men were brought to their level of discomfort.

The remains of what must have been a sharpened stick were imbedded in her ear still but broken off and the crusted blood ran down her neck and stained the shoulders. She did not react to the sounds around her because a wound like this would have deafened her. The man carefully looked over at the medicine bag that had been hooked up and saw she had a low dosage of pain suppressants marked as administered. With that in mind, he reached forward and began to gently unwrap her head. Lipton stood to keep her neck stable as Tim moved.

“I already checked for breaks in her spine with Eddie,” he explained in the tight, official voice Lipton used when removing himself from a moment. “This and the superficial injuries are all she had.”

The superficial ones being the scrapes and bruises from whatever she had tripped over in the night. Either fleeing from her attacker or just playing beforehand. Tim moved the bandages away from her face slowly, as Lipton hissed a sharp inhale and warned him that the ears were nothing. The doctor would have called him dramatic had the whole moment not been something out of an X-Files episode already. And yet, the man spoke true as ever for where the child’s soft skin should have lain in her medicated slumber were blood-crusted and sunken pits—bruised black from force. Tim never felt queasy in a moment, but the shock was enough to arrest even his movements for a moment.

“What the fuck happened to her,” Tim asked and looked at Carwood.

“I have no clue,” he admitted.

He then proceeded to tell the same story Eddie had, though with more description as was Lipton’s nature. It was foggier by the forest that surrounded their normal walking path. It was dark by the time they set out because work ran late for him. The dogs began to panic when they heard some movement. It wasn’t aggressive in any way, Carwood noted. It seemed like an animal moving delicately in the night like a deer or even a cat. But there was talking that seemed hauntingly soft—child’s play maybe. Hide and go seek or man hunt were common games, but they hadn’t seen the telltale signs of a phone’s flashlight dancing on either side of the street. That, and the kids tend to play those games by the park and school where there were plenty of streetlights and houses around.

Figuring it was someone looking to cause trouble, Carwood had offered to go look. While Eddie was a policeman, he was lithe and bony in structure. Lipton, for all his pleasantries and gentile nature was a brute of a man in build and casted a far more intimidating silhouette in the dark. When he had stepped into the tree line, he heard the whimpering again, but louder. It seemed like the fog that was almost like the smoke machines at a club created a deafening atmosphere between there and the street a few yards away. He saw nothing, not even movement, and nearly stumbled on the child had he not moved carefully with his feet shuffling forward.

“I felt like someone knew I was there though,” he stated as he helped Tim gather the long tweezers he would need to remove the bits of broken branch from the child’s ears. “Maybe it was my panic at finding her like that, but I felt like there was someone always behind me, watching what I did until we made our way out of the trees again. You know how the trees tend to mess with the mind, after all.”

He played it off as a joke. The natural fear of the darkness and the claustrophobic nature of the forest in the dark. Tim was thinking more corporeal, as though someone had remained out of sight and hoped that they would find the girl. She had been left in a spot that even Lipton said would have been visible in the light of day. She was meant to be found, only not so soon. He sneered at the idea and for the millionth time thought of how much he hated people. But he began to work carefully and slowly. Stinetorf came into the room and Lipton stepped out to be with Eddie. It took them over an hour to clear out her ears fully and inspect the damage. Both ear drums were punctured, and her eyelids were lifted to reveal that the damage meant she would be permanently blind. But she was stable, and the paperwork was put in to move her to the hospital.

The ambulance arrived and the men watched as she was loaded in with Lipton climbing in after, having been the man who found her. Eddie swore to meet up with him after. He just needed to put the dogs away, first, and check in at the office for the mother in case someone was looking for the child. Tim normally was able to forget a night like that. But this time, there was no reprieve when the dawn came, and his shift was over.

He found himself, instead, at the line of bushes by the spot Lipton mentioned with his brow furrowed in anger and uncertainty. Eddie’s messy hair was visible over the bushes from the angle of the slope between them. Another figure, taller with thick black hair, told him that the chief was with him and they were inspecting where he assumed the girl had been found. With Ron there, Tim knew he would get no further information until after the shift. He turned to leave and was startled to find Carwood standing by him, looking exhausted with a tray of coffees in his hand. Four, in fact, and he looked up at the man. Lipton, to his credit flushed and spun the tray for the one labeled, “Doc.”

“I knew you’d have to look for yourself,” Carwood admitted quietly as Tim took his drink and removed the hole stopper. “Her mother was found last night. She is… not taking it well. Haldane is with her now.”

“How is she,” Tim asked. Then paused. “The girl.”

“Still out. Medical coma, I think, so she can recover without stressing any of the muscles.”

Tim hummed, but also realized that there would be little use in reviving her, anyway. She’d be in too great of shock to say anything of use. She had been eight at best and to have a loss of sight and sound at once would be overwhelming. On top of that, the pain she would feel from her injuries would only stress her more. No, it would be best for her body to recover. As much as he hated it. So, Tim drank his coffee and walked with Carwood to the crest of the hill. In turn, Eddie and Ron took their coffees and eyed the doctor carefully before looking down.

“This is too much blood,” Ron stated abruptly pointing to the ground. Tim balked at the statement but looked anyway. “The injuries you treated wouldn’t have bled like this.”

Rule one when dealing with Chief Spiers was never question how he knew this. Especially when he was correct.

“You’re thinking multiple victims,” Tim offered and sighed into his coffee.

“Issue is we ain’t got any more reports of missing kids,” Eddie pointed out. “One kid gets hurt, these moms out here start panicking something wicked. Y’all’ve seen it.”

“Not if they were not supposed to be home that night anyway,” Carwood offered. “Sleepovers. Or pretending to be one place so they can go somewhere else. Use each other as alibis.”  
Three sets of eyes stared at the man, who flushed under the attention.

“My sister and brother did it often.”

That gave Eddie an idea, it seemed, and he took out his duty phone and walked further to the side. Tim assumed he was calling Haldane to mention this and looked away. He followed Ron’s eyes to the pathway ahead made by long, lumbering strides that snapped branches of low shrubs. His heavy brow furrowed and it seemed comical to watch the man, so sure in his gait, stretch his legs out awkwardly to match what Tim assumed was the space between steps. It looked uncomfortable, even for the leggy individual. And it seemed that was exactly what Ron was thinking himself when he looked Tim in the eyes with the sharp, unwavering way that unsettled others.

“I am over six feet tall,” he stated. Carwood stepped forward and helped him out of the near lunge he had performed to measure the stride. “Whoever made these is at least a foot taller.”

“At least,” Tim parroted in agreement. There was no one over seven feet tall in the area however, no matter how much they told Brad he was. “Any clue what the fuck happened?”

“Do you,” Ron snapped back. That was an answer enough. They both glowered at the ground and huffed. “We’re going to inspect the kid’s shit when the mother has calmed down. My concern is who else is missing and where we’re going to find them next.”

“I can tell you one thing,” Tim sighed. “The ear wounds at least were self-inflicted based on the splinters in her hands and the angle of entry.”

“She was deafening herself,” Lipton asked, causing both men to look at him as though they had forgotten he was there.

Whatever Ron was about to say was cut off by Eddie returning with a grim look on his face. For all the professional baring he had at the station and when in the eyes of those who he had to be professional with, the displays of emotion were almost animated in nature. The grimace that tugged at his lips sent a cold sensation over the other three as they waited. He was off the phone now and walking back with purpose.

“Two more,” he told them. “Like Carwood said. Told they parents it was a sleepover but they ain’t call home yet to be picked up.”

“How old,” Ron asked, pulling out his notebook.

“One nine and one seven.” Eddie turned and looked at Carwood and Tim. “This is now a police matter so, excuse us if we ain’t sharing much.”

“Of course,” Lipton replied immediately with a few blinks. Tim only huffed in agreement.

He knew he’d have two new kids in his waiting room if something happened to them, regardless. Formality was a waste of time when it came to this type of shit.

“However,” Ron muttered as he pocketed his notepad and slid his pen into the slight divot in the pocket for it to rest. “If you two happen to walk the length of the forest from here to the river out of the need to stretch your legs on this fine autumn morning, we cannot stop you.”

Which was how Lipton and Tim ended up with Trigger, once again on lead, and in the heart of the forest. It was darker than he thought it would be considering the way the sun had been shining before they stepped in. However, it seemed the further into the forest they moved, the darker it got though the canopy was incomplete as it was at the edge. The leaves had already lost much of their brilliant reddish splendor and began dropping to the ground, giving plenty of space for the light to come through. Yet, for whatever reason it now all seemed chocked. Tim was not a superstitious man, and he could feel the uneasiness that Carwood had mentioned when he had been in the tree line before. It was as though somewhere in the stillness, there was someone watching. As though the darkness itself was pressing in.

There was nothing found between the street and the river, which was too wide to cross without going three miles out of the way to the bridge. It was just fast enough to make crossing it difficult and not recommended. They looked and found no footprints in the mud or disturbances along the beach. By then it was past noon and the pair started to head back. Seeing the light through the thick break in the trees had been refreshing. The air seemed cooler and less stagnant in the open. But as they moved closer, the cloud cover once again crept through and Tim noticed how Trigger, a large German Shepard, seemed suddenly unwilling to move back into the woods. They fought with him for a while until resigning to use a different path. It was possible he smelled a coyote or a coy wolf in the trees somewhere and was startled.

They found a path the dog did not mind and stepped through. Instantly, the same crushing dread fell over him and Tim looked back toward the way they originally walked. For a brief spell, he swore what was almost dark tendrils wisped through the trees, but he thought better of it. The light was playing off the branches from above. He turned back and started walking again. Aside from that moment of illusion, the rest of the afternoon was uneventful. Ron and Eddie had not reached back out, though Haldane had seen them at the library as Carwood returned his audiobooks and Haldane picked up some books for his niece.

“Still no sign of the girls,” he had told them solemnly. “They’re Nickie’s friends, so I hope these cheer her up in the meantime.”

The meantime would be that night. Tim had only a few hours of sleep before his next shift. It had been as quiet as the night before with the mist rolling in heavier than ever. But the night was not interrupted by a car wildly driving into the parking lot, but with a scream that caused the three men and Haldane to spring to their feet in the clinic’s waiting room. He rushed outside, hot on the taller brunette’s heels. At the corner was a woman who had seemingly fainted, as she was crumpled on the ground with her items around her. Spina revived her once he caught up, but Tim had noticed the shapes that must have scared her. Two shorter figures walking with a strange wave to their gait. In the mist, it looked almost like children playing zombies in the night. Haldane must have come to the same conclusion, for they both were running to stop them before a car sped through the night without seeing them until it was too late.

The officer got to them first with his longer, athletic legs. His calm voice called to them to no avail first. When the man reached them, Tim was on the far side of the street. And, just as they feared, a car shot around the corner and would have collided with the two girls had Haldane not yanked them out of the way. His question was cut off with a strangled cry, which caused Tim to sprint over. He fumbled to get out his phone and turned on the flashlight for better illumination. Once the white light was on their faces, he almost wished he hadn’t. Black liquid seemed to have oozed from their now hollow eye sockets that were caved in just as the first girl had been with blood tricking from their ears as well. Tim clinically noted that it explained why they swayed so eerily. However, neither seemed to react to the officer’s touch as people who were blind and deaf would have normally. In fact, they stood almost statue like in the night now that their movement had been arrested.

Haldane looked at Tim and released both the girls. Tim almost yelled at him but was shocked as he watched them crumple to the ground. The doctor knelt down, enraged at the policeman for being so careless until his hands touched their ice-cold throats and found that they were dead. They were dead for long enough that their body lost the residual heat. Though it was a brisk autumn night, it was hardly cold enough to have had such an effect in minutes.

There was no choice but to bring them inside and wait for them to be brought to the morgue for a better inspection. However, Tim did not need to hear what killed these girls. The bruising around the neck said more than enough. Spina and Stinetorf looked on with concern creasing their brows as Tim and Haldane brought the two girls to the back and grabbed sheets to drape over them. The coroner arrived with Ron in tow. His face was a grim look of pained disgust. As he passed by, he whispered in Tim’s ear:

“Carwood and Eddie are in the forest tonight. Make sure they don’t get into anything too bad.”

It was time to call in a favor. One he hated to do, but McAuliffe wouldn’t deny Tim half a night off after discovering two missing girls dead in the street. Ron spoke with the woman who had seen the two children and got her story. As he left, Tim heard her mention seeing a tall, slender person off in the distance in all black. It was a trick of the light because he seemed impossibly tall standing among the trees. Almost the way it looked like the girls came from. She asked if they were alright. Tim left before he could find out if the woman was lied to or not.

He found Carwood, who looked rather petulant for a man who was normally so put together, sitting on the swing of the playground while Eddie looked out into the street. As Tim drew near, they both rose as though they had been waiting on him. The two men jogged to meet him at the chain fence. After a moment, Eddie broke the silence.

“The girls,” he asked hopefully. Tim just shook his head. “Well, we’re clear to shoot if threatened at this point. I don’t know if Spiers will fudge everything or if he just don’t care. The other girl didn’t make it either. It seemed at some point when no one was in the room she suffocated herself. Ain’t make a lick of sense, as she was in a coma but also ain’t nothin else could have happened.”

Tim sighed and shook his head. Nothing could be done except look for the fucker who had done this. The lights of the park flickered a few times, but they ignored it and took out their phones instead. As they turned, Carwood grabbed Eddie’s shoulder and pointed. Tim almost did not notice it, but a paper seemed taped to one of the poles of the swing set. They hurried forward and looked at it. The page was filled with child-like tree drawings in pen with a tall stick figure and seven red X marks throughout the woods.

“Someone is fucking with us,” Tim snarled and went to snatch the paper, but Eddie grabbed his hand and was already fussing on his cellphone to bring up a picture. It was a child’s notebook with similar drawings.

“This was at the first girls’ house,” he breathed. “This person knows what he’s doin. It’s a game.”

“Not to point out the obvious,” Carwood commented as he started to text, Ron most likely, “but this is a trap.”

“Undoubtedly.” Tim was not in the mood for this. Serial killers playing mind games was for the television only, not real life.

“Ron says to wait here. He and Haldane will meet us and we will go together.”

They waited and once Ron and Haldane arrived, the five of them set off into the forest with only one cell phone on at a time to save battery, as well as one of the police’s heavy-duty mag lights. The cellphone was trained on the paper and the other on the ground ahead of them as the mist swirled inward. Tim watched out ahead, wishing someone with better eyesight had come along. The others bickered over the picture in Eddie’s hand until finally someone snapped that it was not a realistic map, so they needed to stop looking at it so much. As they did, a strange wail on the wind echoed in the trees and the flashlight flickered.

Tim was so fed up with this he wanted to laugh. So, he did—a short, harsh bark. The others looked at him and he shook his head. 

“Let’s walk to the bridge and the power station,” he told them. “If we’re supposed to find something, then they’ll be at whatever excuse of a landmark these trees have.”

And there they were. The power station, or really three large metal boxes behind a fence with two towers over it, had a paper taped to it with six marks. The next had five on them as it hung off the metal guard rail of the bridge. With each paper they found, the trees seemed to get denser and the night darker. The mist rose higher and they found it natural to stick so close that they were nearly stumbling into each other as the flashlight was less effective as time went on. The fourth page was on an old campsite that Haldane remembered from the heroin bust they had a year before and the fifth was at the power lines not far from the park. As they pulled the sixth page from an old, crumbling wall that once belonged to a farm in the area, another wail echoed through the night and the creaking of trees and branches echoed with it. Tim felt the arms of Ron and Carwood move toward each other with such a force that he leaned back to avoid getting between them. Ron’s face was deathly serious with a deep-set protective anger burning in his eyes. Haldane and Eddie were stone-faced and silent as they listened.

But it was Tim that watched the shadow coalesce behind them. It was towering with a pale, white face and arms that seemed to swirl around them. Instinctively, he grabbed the flashlight from Eddie and spun it to face whatever had crept up on them in the night. The instant he did, however, the creature ducked into the darkness, leaving five stunned men staring where it had been.

A second phone was taken out with the flashlight on after that.

They combed the trees. An old porta-potty had the seventh page. The air seemed frozen and the fog hung in the night despite the breeze. There were no insects singing now. No frogs or birds. Even the small animals had become silent as they walked deeper into the woods toward the final red mark in the last page. A shack that shouldn’t have been there or still standing with the heavy winters of late. It was eerie how the mist seemed to avoid it. It was darker there, with barely any light from the moon hitting it. Three clicks told Tim that safety was now disengaged from the pistols.

The men stepped forward and instantly it was as though the ground was pulled from beneath him. A black tendril wrapped around Tim’s leg as he was dragged toward the building. A crack echoed in the night and he felt the grip go slack. The man scurried to his feet and ran back to the group only to see Eddie and Lipton get pulled down as well. He changed course to grab the gun Eddie dropped and fired it as Haldane did, but now Ron was frozen and watching. He waited as the two men were pulled toward the house and stopped. Their bodies were levitated into the air, or at least held up by more of the same aethereal limbs. Two crept up along their necks as the solid form began to appear behind them.

A shrill cry pierced into Tim’s ears, though he was not sure it was a noise at all. It was a laugh. A cry. A plea. A mockery. It felt like it rattled his brain but made not the slightest sound. His hand flew to grab his head and he touched something wet. Blood.

Imagines passed through his mind. The singsong nature of nursery rhymes. The pleasant trill of a music box. The haunting nature of a siren’s call. The young girls who would be buried soon leaving the playground. Leaving the backyard that was right against the forest. Laughing as they held onto impossibly long fingers and danced in circles. How safe they had felt. How warm.

How hot. The pain returned as he watched in horror tainted with this being’s glee as the pressure from the tendrils pressed onto their eyes as the singing and shrieking continued. Tim felt his own eyes burn with pain until a loud crack in the night echoed and it all fell to black. He dropped to the ground and the jolt knocked his senses back in order. Tim blinked up and realized that Ron had somehow made it to the building and was burning the pages, along with the shack itself. The crack had been two bullets that pierced the blank, white face between the two men. One from Haldane and one from his own hand, though he did not remember firing.

Eddie and Carwood dropped and the two men, staggering as they went, ran forward. They were bruised. All five of them had a slow trickle of blood from their ears, but aside from the forming black eyes caused by the pressure, that was the worst of the damage. The form was gone, however. A burned mark on the ground, black as the night, singed the grass. The orange glow of the burning building behind them lit the forest. Ron called it in after sending them away with Tim, who had Spina come pick them up, claiming to have found people attempting arson.

The tall man. An image that would haunt his dreams for weeks. Tim gave into his own paranoia and looked it up. A man that seemed to have come over with the other folklore of Europe to the East Coast and set up shop. The stories were ridiculous and the standard affair for old superstition. But the permanent scarring like a third degree burn that wrapped around his left leg where that tendril grabbed him reminded Tim that this had been no joke. And he was not sure they had done much other than postpone his return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!

**Author's Note:**

> This was longer than I expected! Whoops. As of right now the groups will be mostly separate, but they all exist in the same world. Each chapter is a different story. If you have suggestions on which story to use next, comment below, and if you want anyone in them <3


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